


holding you up

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Begging, Chastity Device, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Quadrant Confusion, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3150029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are being the <i>best</i> boyfriend right now, right, and you're not even appropriating that word because you're only using it in your head instead of saying it out loud where Kankri could get upset. And it better be worth it, because you are <i>so</i> uncomfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding you up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chokolait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chokolait/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! I saw that you'd like this pairing in several different quadrants, and Kankri's other self pioneered "love beyond the quadrants" and Cronus craves attention pretty badly, so it seemed like putting them into a blurry, let's-not-ask-what-quadrant-this-is relationship would be a decent choice. ^^;

You are being the _best_ boyfriend right now, right, and you're not even appropriating that word because you're only using it in your head instead of saying it out loud where Kankri could get upset. And it better be worth it, because you are _so_ uncomfortable.

Kankri doesn't seem to notice, going on about the body-shaming implicit in the uniformity of snowman design, his hot mutant breath coming out in little visible puffs in the cold air. You hold his hand, walking down the sidewalk together, going out on a nice ordinary date while you try to think about anything except how ill-used your poor bulge is right now.

You asked Kankri what he wanted for Twelfth Perigee's because you're a generous guy, and you have plenty of cash to spend on keeping him sweet. So of course he took advantage of your generosity and asked you to _do_ something instead, like, you're pretty sure he must've hated you that day, because what he wanted was to satisfy all of his kinks and in the process make you suffer.

Cause yeah, he's a kinky little shit, even though that's another thing you gotta not say because of how it others deviant sexual practices. Kankri's kinked hard for playing at normal except with him in charge, and for leaving you hanging until your pride goes right out the window, and that put together is why you're having a sweet old-fashioned leisurely date with a red rubber plug stuffed up the sheath of your bulge. It shifts a tiny bit every time you take a step, and you're walking from your hive to this community celebration thing, and you are in the worst agony ever felt by trollkind.

"—didn't know better, I'd think you were unhappy to be here."

Whoops, that's a cue to pay more attention. "That ain't it, you know that," you say, giving him a hurt look. "I always like spending time with you, and this was a real thoughtful suggestion for a place to go—" there's a traditional human celebration in the town square tonight, with music— "but you know how bad I'm distracted right now."

He looks away, blushing a little but looking damn smug all the same. "I admit I expected you to last a little longer before you reached this point."

You lean in close. "You don't know how it feels, babe," you murmur in his ear. You're into the quaint shopping district now, streets with other people on them, and you don't really want to share this with the world. "It's like you're playing with me every step I take, but you won't let me really get anywhere."

Okay, now you can really see his color coming out in his cheeks. Bet he likes that, making it all about him and what he's doing. You sure would. "Well, I'm not about to change my mind if you whine about it," he says.

You get a hot little flare of pitch behind your ribs, and if you wanted to get to him you'd point out how you're being extremely magnanimous to let him make rules, but you want to get pailed tonight a lot more than you want to make him take a swing at you. You settle for, "I bet you like it when I whine."

"We've discussed this, I believe," he says. "Making assumptions about others' feelings or intentions does a disservice both to them and to your own capacity for understanding the problematics of—"

"Check it out, here we are," you say. "Isn't this nice."

The town square is decked out for the human holiday that happens toward the end of their year, more or less around Twelfth Perigee's in yours. There's branches cut off of trees and twined around railings with strings of little lights, and a big tree in the middle with a lot of lights and some fake snow, and boxes tied up with ribbons heaped underneath. The centerpiece of tonight's little event is the choir, shuffling into place on a set of risers by the tree, bundled up the way humans have to in the cold. You guys get a couple funny looks—there aren't many horns in the crowd—but fuck 'em if they don't have the sense to be grateful for your interest.

"Pick us a good spot, babe?" you ask as you spot a refreshment stand. "I'll be right there." You make a quick detour to get hot chocolates for both of you, because that's part of the whole experience, and Kankri hasn't even started lecturing anybody when you catch up. Maybe because he's thinking about your junk: you catch him glancing down at your crotch as you get back to him.

He frowns at the cup you hand him. "Cronus, you know I abstain."

You bet he doesn't actually care that much—hell, he gave up on abstaining from sex after you guys talked about it enough. But you don't mind going along with this one. "'S okay, I remembered. They're sugar-free."

Aw, that's a cute smile. "Thank you. And please accept my apologies for doubting you, as well; I should have more faith that a quadrantmate, however unconventional and frequently self-centered, would make an effort to be accommodating."

You shrug, an unappreciated, sensitive soul hiding behind a tough exterior. "I got depths most people never see."

The crowd's going quiet now. You expect to see some bundled-up red-faced human get up front and give you some generic welcoming b.s., but no. Instead the choir gets their signal and they start right up singing. It's... surprisingly good. Choral music isn't really a thing for trolls, since cooperation isn't your strong suit. But the voices blend in a really cool way, making harmonies, turning the voice into an instrument instead of a communication apparatus. You can't even always pick out the individual words, but the tones are really cool. Maybe you could find some recordings somewhere that you could play with, synthesize that into a patch for your own stuff. That'd be cool. A new sound to mark the new phase in your artistic career, influenced by your arrival in a new world.

You sip hot chocolate thoughtfully—not as good as the real stuff, of course, but not bad, and you'll probably want to have your wits about you anyway, in case Kankri's still got some pitch to burn off when you get home. At least holding still for the concert means you don't have to keep molesting yourself constantly with that goddamn plug. He probably has no idea what he's doing to you right now.

You reach over and slide your hand up under the back of his sweater. His spine goes all stiff and he glares, but you just hook your fingers in the belt loop right at his spine. If you're going to be constantly thinking about him in your pants, he might as well, too.

He settles after a minute, shifting closer, leaning into your side. Still pretending like all his attention's on the concert, but you know better. One of the humans on the other side of the square makes an "aaw" face at you, covering her mouth with her hands. You grin at her and drop a little kiss right on Kankri's nubby horn. Yeah, you're pretty lucky, not counting the grievous and undeserved junk torment.

By the time the singers are done you're pretty okay with life in general. Kankri sighs comfortably, tipping his head to look up at you. "That was certainly culturally enriching. Shall we go find a cafe to continue this pleasant evening?"

Your pleasant evening scratches to a nasty halt. "What? Babe, no, come on, you never said anything about getting food after, we had a plan, remember? You can't just go changing the plan after you've gotten a guy's hopes up."

"I'm not sure I would say we had a _plan_ , exactly. There certainly wasn't any detailed negotiation of the course of the evening's events."

Man, your bulge is starting to throb just thinking about being trapped for the rest of the night. "Okay maybe but you _knew_ what you were doing to me. Isn't it kinda problematic for you to take advantage of my expectations like this?"

He sniffs. "I'm not convinced." You fold down your fins in the saddest and most pathetic way you know how, because sometimes that gets him when arguing won't. He looks skeptical. You chew your lower lip.

He rolls his eyes. "I intended to go straight home now anyway," he says. "The cafe was just a suggestion."

Yes! Thank fuck. You're so relieved you hug him right there, and then maybe whine a tiny bit when that shoves the plug up you a little harder. But you'll get to do something about that soon.

You're practically pulling him along on the walk home, like a wiggler who's got a whole pile of Twelfth Perigee's presents to unwrap. It's close enough: you're looking to _get_ unwrapped as your present. He huffs a little, pinking up again like he's out of breath, which probably he is because otherwise he'd have something to say about how offensive your impatience is. 

Patience isn't your thing, though, which is why you're stripping pretty much from the moment the front door to your hive gets closed behind you. You have been _so good_ all evening despite feeling like your bulge was getting stroked by the same thing that wouldn't let it out to play. You drop your jacket right by the door. Your shirt goes off over your head and into a corner somewhere. You kick your boots off on the way to the recreationblock.

Your jeans take a little more finessing, which is the one drawback to wearing them tight enough to show off your glutes. The wiggling shifts your plug, too, but that's more exciting than awful now that you know you're about to do something about it. And when you look back over your shoulder—yeah, Kankri's staring. Can't blame him, with how the harness for the plugs frames your glutes perfectly.

"You're looking a little overdressed there, chief," you point out, since he hasn't followed your lead.

"I'm fine," he says. He tugs his sweater down a little like he wants to make sure it's covering his crotch. You'd press the issue, except, "Turn around. Let me see you."

If he likes to be in control of things, well, you like to have his attention, so it works out pretty great. You turn around slow, hands down, hip cocked, and his eyes track straight to your junk. Your sheath is swollen around the plug, flushing violet. The harness straps are soft black leather, and the lock that holds the whole business together hangs a little above the top of your sheath, like the star at the top of a human Christmas tree. If you follow that analogy, that kinda makes your nook the presents underneath. You hope Kankri gets around to opening his presents soon.

"How do you want me, babe?" you ask, because sometimes he still needs a little prompting.

"Flat on your back," he says, low and hungry. _God_. Nobody else even knows this side of him exists, and they're missing out, and you're glad.

You lay yourself out for him on the concupiscent couch, legs splayed so he can get a good look at you. Your trapped bulge throbs, pushing against the plug, and your nook flutters. It can't open all the way until you unsheath, because of how all your bits connect, so there's basically nothing you can do until Kankri unlocks you. (Or until you break the leather, because you might not be Zahhak-STRONG but there's basically no such thing as a weak seadweller. But then he wouldn't play with you, so. No can do.)

The mattress dips as Kankri joins you. Still dressed, the perverse little fuck. He runs his claws up your inner thigh and you shiver, your gills flaring. "I'm impressed," he says. "I would have expected pleading by now."

"Wouldn't make you do me any faster, would it?" you ask, which is only half rhetorical. If it actually would, hey. You've got your pride but you've also got needs.

He stretches out, propping himself on his elbows _really_ close to your junk. "Maybe I want to hear it," he says. You can feel his breath on your sheath, he's that close. "Maybe you need a little more inspiration." He kisses you right at the base of your sheath, his mouth damp and hot.

"Maybe I do," you croak. He kisses you again. You suck in a breath and don't say anything.

He parts your seedflap with his fingers, shifts a little lower, and licks your exposed nook. You whine, because _fuck_. He does it again, slow and meandering, circling the opening and then backing away. You claw at the sheets helplessly. It's almost like having his bulge down there, wet and hot and muscular, and your nook throbs. Kankri hums thoughtfully, like that was in any way a surprise, like he could have had _any doubt_ how much this was going to wreck you.

The next set of little circles have you gasping, and then instead of pulling back he works his tongue into you the tiny bit that it'll go. "Oh my _god_ ," you moan. You want him so much deeper, his bulge sunk in you and filling you, but your body won't let you take more than the tip of his tongue. He knows exactly how bad he's getting to you, too, his eyes half-lidded in smug satisfaction as he torments your nook.

"Please," you gasp without really meaning to. Welp. "God, please, babe, I need it, need you," and this is so fucking hot you're going to die. When Kankri slides a hand up your thigh and over your hip you tremble, and it comes to rest over your sheath as he looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. "Yes," you say, "please, yes."

He pushes the plug in further, and you howl. Your system is so fucking overloaded you don't even know what to do with yourself—friction against your trapped and swollen bulge, teasing licks at your still-closed nook, everything you got on fire with need you can't satisfy. You can't even words for a minute, choking out desperate mewling sounds as you let Kankri have his way with you.

Then he pulls back, and after you blink enough times to clear your vision you can see he's flipped. His expression is totally different, soft around the corners of his eyes and in the line of his mouth. "You really are trying to give me everything I want, aren't you?"

You nod. Your gills make a little reflexive glub.

Kankri smiles gently. He pulls his sweater off and drops it over the edge of the couch, then digs in his pocket and comes up with a key. You hold your breath, waiting, as he unlocks the harness. The tension goes out of the straps immediately, and your bulge pushes against the no-longer-anchored plug, but he catches it before you can push it all the way out.

You barely stop yourself from saying _no, don't_ , because what if he thought you meant don't touch you? And instead you just whimper, pleading with your expression.

"It's all right," he says. "Here." He leans back down to get his face in your junk, licking his lips. He slides the plug out in a nice, slow motion, then seals his lips over your sheath right away.

You couldn't stop yourself if you wanted to. Your bulge uncoils right into the heat of his mouth, sliding over his tongue, pushing into the soft clutch of his throat. His tiny vestigial gills flutter adorably and he stays right there, relaxing deliberately around your length. His fingers find your nook and this time you're happy to let him in. 

You're dizzy with how fast this scene has turned around, dizzy and smitten and lucky to have him all over again. You roll your hips, getting a little more action for your bulge, just as his fingers get deep enough to brush against your globes. " _Yes_ ," you moan, "yes, babe, you're so good," and your nook is starting to make filthy little wet sounds now that it's getting played with right.

Matter of fact, you've got kind of a short fuse most of the time, and walking around desperate all evening did nothing to help that. You're getting sloppier in a hurry. God, you don't want to stop, even though you know you'll be sorry later if you have to clean up.

Kankri's got you handled, still. He pulls off your bulge, which is really sorry to see him go, and asks, "Time for the pail?"

"Yeah," you say, and briefly wish you hadn't when that means he's gotta take his fingers out of you, too. But he gets the pail and you get up on your knees over it, and his fingers are back up your nook before the slick on them's had time to get sticky. It's almost perfect. "Hey," you say, figuring you might as well go for all the way perfect, "suck me a little more?"

He looks up, like he's checking to make sure you're asking instead of making demands, which you totally are. "You _have_ been very patient for me," he says, and gets back down there.

Holy shit there is _nothing_ prettier than Kankri's mouth full of your bulge, and there's nothing that feels better than having him put everything he's got into taking care of you. You lose yourself in it, the relief of being able to open up, the pleasure of being touched inside and out, the outrageous mutant heat that feels like it's seeping right into your bloodstream every time you get your bulge in him. You're soaring, so ready, so needy, and then he tips you over the edge and all the tension in your body unspools, pouring out around Kankri's fingers and into the pail.

You sag, catching yourself against his shoulder for a second before he pulls out and you recover enough to sit back. He's got splatters of your color on his chin and shoulders; you must have hit the pail pretty hard.

He shifts the pail to the floor where it won't get in the way, then coughs and clears his throat. "Worth it?"

"Hell yes," you say fervently. "Happy Twelfth Perigee's Eve."

Kankri smirks. "I'm not sure I'm quite done yet," he says. He undoes his own pants, finally, and pushes them off. He's wearing a duplicate of the harness he put on you.

"Holy shit, you—you've been tormenting yourself with that this whole time?"

"It hardly seems fair to ask you to do something I wouldn't do myself," he says. "Besides, I've often found that a little self-discipline and delay makes the eventual reward more meaningful."

You grin, and you don't even try to hide how sharky you're feeling. "You want a little help putting that theory to the test, chief, you know I'm here for you."

He licks his lips like he's still tasting you on them. "I had hoped to impose on your goodwill once your own appetites were less of a pressing concern for you, yes."

"My pleasure," you say, and you pull him down with you. It'll probably take longer to get him to actually beg for it, but you're willing to put the effort in. You're going to have a lot of fun with this.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Your mouth waters_  
>  _stretched out on my bed_  
>  _your fingers are trembling_  
>  _and your heart is heavy and red_  
>  _and your head is bent back_  
>  _and your back is arched_  
>  _my hand is under there_  
>  _holding you up_  
>  \--Melissa Ferrick, "Drive"


End file.
